


you are at home in my heart

by furafurari



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Beta We Die Like August
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furafurari/pseuds/furafurari
Summary: In the close proximity between two of them, Hisoka ponders.
Relationships: Arisugawa Homare/Mikage Hisoka
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108





	you are at home in my heart

When he woke up, it was to the pleasant wafting smell of marshmallow.

Hisoka yawned, before turning his head to the source of smell of the chewy savory goodness. He blinked when he saw a cup of hot cocoa topped with marshmallows on the table, realizing he had fallen asleep on someone’s lap on the lounge sofa. He glanced upwards, discovering Homare who’s smiling softly at him, hand holding the novel he just bought the other day.

“Oh, finally woken up, Hisoka-kun?” A hand that’s been laying on his shoulder moved to caress his hair, and Hisoka closed his eyes to savor the soothing gesture further. The smell of marshmallow got stronger, however, so he opened his eyes again to see that Homare had put down his novel and brought the hot chocolate closer to him. “Here, I have made you some hot chocolate! Drink it while it’s still hot. It will be much more delightful that way.” 

Not wanting to waste perfectly good marshmallow, Hisoka sat up, causing the jacket on his shoulder to pool on his lap. He noticed that his roommate is missing his usual jacket, so he assumed that the garment covering him just now is his. Feeling a smile threatened to bloom on his face, he hid it by accepting the hot cup of chocolate offered to him and began to drink it.

It’s sweet, and he began to chew the marshmallows entering his mouth. Now his heart and stomach felt warm, and he can feel some sort of peaceful happiness surrounding him. He stared at Homare who murmured his usual repertoire, probably getting some inspiration from the novel. He didn’t really care for the content, but to hear some noise to fill in the gap of silence felt nice. Especially when it’s only two of them sitting in the longue, what with others busy doing either their part time work, exercising, or still being at school. Hisoka sipped on his chocolate again, quickly finishing it and putting the empty mug back on the coffee table. He will put it in the sink later, or Homare will. Feeling full and satisfied, he can feel sleep nagging at the edge of his eyelids, and he flopped his head back on Homare’s lap, intent on continuing his slumber.

The poet shook his head with that fond smile of his, before covering him once again with his jacket. “My, what a spoiled sweetheart you are.” Hisoka hummed, letting out a content sigh when Homare began to caress his hair again, feeling the slight callouse at the side of his index and pointer fingers from writing so much rub against Hisoka's temple. He always complained that Hisoka is spoiled and egoistic, and yet he’s the one making him hot chocolate with marshmallows, buying him daily bags of the sweet treats, and letting him sleep on his lap like this.

He decided to voice out that thought, because Homare deserved to know.

“And yet, you’re the one who’s doing the spoiling, Arisu.” Lazy voice trills out from between his lips, making Homare laugh. He liked hearing the hearty laugh Homare makes. It fluffs his heart with hearty feelings and happiness.

Homare still chuckles, grabbing a bag of marshmallows from his side. “Oh, I suppose you’re correct. Though I can’t help it now, can I? I did say that taking care of your selfishness is my lifetime job now.” He took one marshmallow from the bag, a pale yellow one, before pressing it to Hisoka’s lips. Hisoka immediately chewed it, letting the treat melt in his mouth. He ponders this a bit, as he swallowed. He really did take care of him, hadn’t he? Buying him marshmallows, waking him up for meals, helping bring him to practice. Even as he complains, he still did it, out of his good will. In spite of the fact that they began with no connection other than accidental roommates.

“You don’t have to, though.”

Hisoka confessed, closing his eyes once more. A hand was back on his head, trailing down to cup his cheek gently. No humming nor poetry was heard, and Homare was loud, so Hisoka knows that he’s currently thinking. He lets him do just that, feeling sleepiness begin to drag him down once more.

“I wanted to, because I love you.”

Finally a response was heard, Homare’s usually loud voice sincere and heartfelt. That made Hisoka open his eyes again, being greeted by a sight of pink dusted on Homare’s cheek. He knows that Homare cares and loves just as much as he composes poetry, evident in each of his actions and choice of words. It’s one of the reasons he didn’t mind to hear him reciting his poetry sometimes, especially if the sonnet was made specifically with him in mind. 

A smile quirked at the edge of his lip, as Hisoka stretched a hand and tugged at the longer strand of Homare’s hair, bringing him close enough for their lips to touch. When he pulls back, he’s close enough to stare at Homare’s brilliant red eyes, his blush spreading to the tip of his ears. It’s quite endearing, to render him speechless like this.

“Hngh, you… How many times must I tell you not to tug my hair like that, Hisoka-kun!?” Homare scolded lightly, scoffing before giving a peck back. It’s his way to cover up his embarrassment, and there’s no bite between the words. Hisoka smiles into their kiss, tasting marshmallows and a hint of cocoa as their lips parted. 

“It makes the surprise element more fun, and you’re cute when you’re surprised.”

Homare let out an undignified sound when he said it, and Hisoka chuckled as he closed his eyes and nuzzled his head onto his lover’s stomach, preparing to sleep once more. He tuned out Homare’s scolding, even as the hair petting began once more, lulling him to sleep.

And he thought, all is perfect, just like this.


End file.
